


Speaking in Effect

by Crowgirl



Series: On the Strength of the Evidence [64]
Category: Grantchester (TV)
Genre: Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ficlet, M/M, Not Beta Read, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-14 01:46:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18043118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowgirl/pseuds/Crowgirl
Summary: That isn’t what Geordie’s holding.





	Speaking in Effect

‘You kept it.’

‘What?’ Sidney turns around from rummaging through a stack of old church bulletins to see Geordie standing by his desk, something in his hand. It’s on the tip of his tongue to point out that he _had_ looked through his desk, thank you very much, and the letter from the bishop wasn’t there because if it was, did Geordie think he wouldn’t have found it by now, when he realises that isn’t what Geordie’s holding.

Geordie turns the bloodstained envelope over in his hands, holding it gingerly by the corners as though it were evidence -- which Sidney supposes it is, of a kind. He examines it carefully, front, back, even turning it to look at the worn edges. Then he looks up at Sidney. ‘You _kept_ it.’

Sidney shrugs, putting the stack of bulletins back down and shoving his hands in his pockets for something to do with them. 'Didn’t seem to be much else to do with it.’

Geordie’s eyebrows shoot up. ‘Leave it? Throw it away? _Mail_ the damned thing if you had to! But--’

‘How could I mail that?’ Sidney jerks his head at the envelope. ‘You can barely read it.’

‘You’ve got it off by memory, haven’t you.' Geordie holds it up towards him. ‘Every word -- I know you have.’

Sidney shrugs and says nothing. 

‘Christ.’ Geordie drops the envelope on Sidney’s desk and rubs a hand over his face. When he drops his hand, he looks tired, his eyes dark in a way they hadn’t been before.

‘It’s not that bad,’ Sidney protests, coming a few steps across the room.

‘Sidney. Love. I’m not a psychiatrist but this --’ Geordie picks up the envelope, shakes it, and throws it down again; Sidney moves to protest -- it shouldn’t be treated so roughly -- but stops himself. ‘-- this is that bad.‘

Sidney grits his teeth. ‘It doesn’t -- I didn’t feel right just -- he _gave_ it to me, Geordie.’

‘Why didn’t you send it on, then? You know the girl’s name. Wrap it up in a new envelope and send it on to her.’ Geordie leans back against the desk, crossing his arms over his chest in a gesture Sidney recognizes from himself.

‘I--’ Sidney gestures, then lets his hand drop to his side. ‘What could I say?’

‘Here’s the last letter from your sweetheart, killed in action, very sorry, many condolences,’ Geordie says promptly. ‘You know the kind of thing. We’ve both seen them.’ 

Sidney is shaking his head before Geordie’s even stopped speaking. The thought of writing that letter makes something nauseating uncurl in the pit of his stomach. ‘No -- no, I couldn’t.’

Geordie looks at him for a long minute, then speaks with a slight hesitation. ‘It’s just -- it’s just blood, Sidney. It can’t _say_ anything.’

Sidney presses a hand over his mouth, suddenly sure he’s going to gag, and Geordie comes across to him immediately. His hands are warm and solid and steady and he smells comfortingly of tobacco and wool and cheap shaving soap.

‘Hey -- hey, it’s all right, don’t look like that, keep the thing forever if you want to--’

Geordie’s just saying whatever comes into his head, Sidney knows, but the last words suddenly make a vivid picture and he can see himself, an old man, sitting in this room beside this desk with that envelope still in front of him. He sucks in a deep breath, shaking his head, tears blurring his vision over. ‘I -- I _can’t_ \-- Geordie --’

‘All right, all right --’ Geordie embraces him gently, carefully, as if Sidney might break unexpectedly and Sidney lets himself lean against him, closes his eyes and presses his face against Geordie’s shoulder. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Shakespeare's [Sonnet 85](https://www.opensourceshakespeare.org/views/sonnets/sonnet_view.php?Sonnet=85).


End file.
